


when I get to you

by ForASecondThereWedWon



Series: Spidey-shots, Spidey-shots, now they're done, thanks a lot <3 [54]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Crushes, F/M, Fantasizing, Horny Peter Parker, Masturbation, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Spider-Man: Far From Home (Movie), Prompt Fic, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:47:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26722402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForASecondThereWedWon/pseuds/ForASecondThereWedWon
Summary: Peter's starting to think aboutMichelleMJ a little differently.
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Series: Spidey-shots, Spidey-shots, now they're done, thanks a lot <3 [54]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1368034
Comments: 12
Kudos: 67
Collections: The Spideychelle Shuffle





	when I get to you

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the following lyrics from "Violet" by Savage Garden:
> 
> _Anytime I need to see your face/I just close my eyes_

Ned thinks he’s preoccupied with Spider-Man-related concerns. May thinks it’s his ongoing struggle to recover the grades that were tanking at the start of the year. They’re wrong, they’re both wrong, and this… _this_ is wrong.

Peter’s up twenty minutes before his alarm. _Up_ up. With his hand down his pajama pants, he’s working on his second orgasm of the morning because his body just doesn’t know when to quit. Almost makes him miss the beatdowns from the Vulture and his little cast of characters. At least handing everyone their ass like he’s a cafeteria worker doling out helpings of runny lasagna was enough to make him collapse into bed when he hit the pillow every night and just meet the requirement for enough energy to function the next day. None left over.

He’s heard that—for people used to fighting, used to war—a life suddenly devoid of conflict will make them go soft. Peter exhales forcefully through his nose as he rolls his fingers and takes a firmer grip. Soft is not his problem.

Using his own heavy breathing as white noise, he strokes himself, teeth clamped together. He just can’t get her out of his head. Michelle. No, _MJ_. That’s what she wants to be called, to be seen differently. Well, Peter’s definitely seeing her differently. He can’t tell if something’s triggered this (has she cut her hair? Did she wear different clothes that drew his attention to a before-unthought-of part of her body? Say something his horny teenage brain willfully misinterpreted as a double entendre?) or if it’s been a long change. A slow understanding of why he always talks to her, though her replies are terse and typically unsmiling. Why he looks to her first when he walks into a classroom, though she invariably greets him with a proudly raised middle finger. God, he wishes her fingers were available to him right now. He pumps himself, groaning.

Peter snatches the box of Kleenex from his bedside table and tosses it onto the mattress as he rolls from his back to his side. Though he presses his face into his pillow, squeezing his eyes shut, he can see MJ as clearly as if she were in the room. His eyes snap open again. Awesome, now he’s hung up on the idea of her in the room, his bedroom… Walking towards him, like she does down the hall at Midtown, but instead of a mocking grin, she’d give him a smirk, like she knows. Oh god, does she know? No, of course she doesn’t. Peter shakes his head and curls his free hand around the edge of his pillow, grasping a squishy handful and absolutely not imagining that it’s MJ’s hair he’s clutching, her ass he’s seizing, one of her boobs… He pants.

He’ll need to shower after this, he knows, trying to think straight as he gets closer. He watches the Kleenex box, aware that his hand will be imminently darting out to yank tissues free. But she’ll follow him there. He carries her so easily in his head that there’s no place he can go where the thought of her doesn’t exist. In a way, Peter’s glad MJ’s not leaving him. In another way, having to jerk off for a _third_ time while he showers will slow down his morning routine. In yet another, that third time will make it even harder for him to not flush bright red whenever their eyes meet at school today. Even. Harder.

Peter moans hotly into his pillow.


End file.
